


Return to Sender

by probablylostrightnow



Series: Elaine Shepard [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gift Giving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 06:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1848235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablylostrightnow/pseuds/probablylostrightnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Shepard and Liara's romance was ended prematurely by Shepard's death. After her restoration, she searches for a gift for Liara that will represent the depth of her feelings for the asari. The reality of their reunion, however, will be far from what Shepard expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Right Gift

Once she and her two companions were safely away from the Normandy, anonymous in the bustle of Zakera Ward, Shepard gave a sigh of relief. For the first time since she had opened her eyes on that table, Cerberus wasn’t watching.

Garrus cleared his throat. “So, Commander, what’s our real mission?”

Shepard raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean, Garrus?”

“Picking up supplies for the Normandy’s kitchen? You don’t need my expertise for that, or hers.” He nodded at Dr. Chakwas. “If you’re taking us along, I figure that the mission involves someone being shot in the head, and someone else needing medical attention. Unless it’s that we’re planning on providing whoever I shoot in the head with medical attention.”

Shepard’s lips turned up in a smile, bringing a painful prickling sensation to her cheeks.  Apparently, her new body hadn’t had enough experience with the expression. “Sorry to disappoint you, but this really is just a shopping trip.”

“Personal shopping really isn’t my expertise, Shepard,” Garrus protested. Chakwas stayed silent, but her amusement showed in her twinkling eyes.

“All right,” Shepard allowed. “I brought you along for two reasons. First, I just need to spend some time with people I trust. People who will watch my back, who I knew from before, who ...” She lowered her voice. “... aren’t Cerberus.”

Chakwas frowned. “I have gotten to know many of the crew, Commander. They are genuinely good people who want to do what’s right.”

“Maybe they are,” Garrus interjected, sounding weary, “but they’re taking orders from people who aren’t.”

“Exactly,” Shepard said. “When it comes down to it, some of ‘my crew’ will side with Cerberus, and I don’t know yet who that’s going to be. And until I do, I have to keep my guard up.”

Chakwas was still frowning. “When it comes down to it? Are you saying a clash is inevitable?”

Shepard and Garrus both stopped walking. Shepard was no expert on turian facial expressions, but was pretty sure the position of his mandibles signaled _skepticism_.  She turned to Chakwas, her voice quiet but intense. “The Illusive Man and his organization cannot be trusted. Garrus and I have seen the atrocities they’ve been responsible for. For now, we are working with Cerberus because we need their resources. We can’t count on any support from the Council.  They were damn clear about that.” Anderson had made it even clearer… but she couldn’t dwell on that now.  Her trust in these two was absolute, but this pain was one she couldn’t share.

“But while we need Cerberus, we _cannot_ afford to forget who we’re dealing with.” She knew very well that s _he_ could not afford to forget it. And damn, Cerberus had gone out of their way to help her forget, staffing the ship with the most idealistic, likeable, familiar faces the Illusive Man could find. _Which could_ _backfire on him, if I can win the crew’s loyalty_.

“There was a second reason?” Garrus asked, bringing Shepard back to the moment.

“This one’s a little embarrassing,” she admitted. “I want to find a gift for Liara, and this seems like the best chance. But I don’t quite know what I’m looking for.”

Garrus shuffled his feet. Shepard thought he looked like he’d rather face another army of mercs, gunship included. “Shepard, picking out gifts is even less my area of expertise. And I haven’t heard from Liara in years. I don’t even know where she is.”

“She’s on Illium,” Shepard said. “The Illusive Man gave me that much, at least.” No need to mention his evaluation of Liara’s trustworthiness.

“Does that mean Illium will be our next stop?” Chakwas asked.

Shepard frowned. “No. I’ve certainly given it some thought.  Liara could be very helpful against the Collectors.”  Her companions seemed reluctant to meet her gaze. She knew they were perfectly aware that she had another reason.  “But Cerberus hasn’t directed us to Illium. If I order the ship there, that order might well be countermanded. That would mean a confrontation before we’re ready.  I have to wait this out.”

Garrus tapped absently on his omnitool, and then his eyes abruptly lit up. “Maybe I can help after all. There was a store in Zakera Ward that specialized in gifts for asari – Fit for a Matriarch, that was the name. In CSEC, we used to call it ‘Fit for the Consort’ because half their sales wound up there.  We were pretty sure that Sha’ira’s acolytes sold most of them right back to the shop. Anyway, according to this, they’re still in business. They might have something that would be right for Liara.”

“Lead on, Vakarian,” Shepard ordered.

They found the shop where Garrus remembered it, prominently positioned on Level 30. The front windows were filled with glittering, ostentatious pieces of jewelry. Shepard glanced at the prices and fingered her credit chip nervously. _Maybe there’s something less expensive in back_. She stepped into the store and was immediately approached by an asari clad in a glimmering blue gown.

The asari tightened her lips as she looked over Shepard and her two companions. “Can I help you find something?” she asked.

Shepard looked over the store as intently as she would survey a battlefield. More jewelry, perfume, cosmetics, flowers made of glass – nothing she would give Liara without an accompanying apology. “I’m looking for a gift,” she muttered.

“Ah, of course.” Shepard wondered how long the asari had practiced to master that slightly condescending sneer. “Can you tell me something about the asari you’re shopping for?”

Where to begin? “She’s an archaeologist. She likes... old things, I guess? Prothean artifacts and the like? But I’d also like to get her something personal. Something that represents... what I think of her.” _Please don’t ask me what that is, I feel awkward enough already_. She gave thanks that Garrus and Chakwas were browsing the shelves and couldn’t hear her stammering.

“I see.” The asari motioned her toward a shelf. “Perhaps one of these vases? They are one-of-a-kind items made by the master crafter Alsia many of your lifetimes ago. We can add a custom plaque to express your particular feelings.”

The sweeping curves and rainbow patterns of the vases were almost mesmerizing. She found herself holding her breath, fearing that a puff of air might shatter one or all. _Beautiful, graceful, and fragile._ _Well, Liara is certainly beautiful._ She thought back on her memories of Liara.  The endearing awkwardness, the strength she had lent Shepard when the _Normandy_ was grounded, her yelling at _Ashley_ , of all people, to get up and keep moving. _Graceful and fragile are not good fits._ Besides, the only art she’d known Liara to express an interest in was Prothean. She shook her head.

“Well.  These statuettes are believed to date back to the Prothean era, and are also quite lovely,” the asari continued.

Shepard saw the price and looked away. _Better not bump into one of these shelves, or I’ll have to pawn the Normandy to pay damages_. “It’s way out of my price range.”

“I see. In that case, perhaps your asari friend will appreciate a more… useful gift? We have a wide selection of the finest asari skin-care products to keep her soft and supple. Or... numerous products specifically intended for bedroom use. As you know, many asari have had a great deal of experience and crave variety.”

Shepard’s hand was on the control for her tactical cloak before she curbed the impulse to make a quick escape. “I’ll just look around, if that’s all right.”

“Of course. Please let me know if I can help with anything.” She withdrew a few paces, keeping a careful eye on Shepard as if she might start smashing or pocketing the objets d’art at any moment.

Shepard glanced around the store again and realized that every asari she saw was wearing a “Fit for a Matriarch” name tag. The customers included a few volus, an elcor, a hanar, a turian, a batarian, and her own team. _Do they even sell things that asari want? Or things that other races_ think _asari want?_ Her gaze fell on Garrus, who was drumming his fingers anxiously on a shelf as the asari speaking to him gestured at a display of lingerie. Time for a rescue mission.

“I think we should go, Garrus,” she said. “I’m not going to find what I’m looking for here.”

She expected Garrus to be relieved, but instead he dropped his head, and his voice was stricken.  “I’m very sorry, Commander. I should have thought...”

“Garrus.” His extreme reaction was a shock.  Had the strain been worse on him that she’d realized? She made herself smile, trying to banish her own frustration and worry. “It’s all right. You haven’t...” _Let me down. Damn, of course he’s sensitive there. His entire squad, gone. The scars I can see aren’t the worst ones_. “It’s all right,” she repeated.

Chakwas joined them, frowning. “You certainly know Liara better than I do, Shepard, but if I may give my opinion? I don’t think you’ll find her gift here.”

Shepard nodded. “Let’s make a tactical withdrawal.”

“We can go look somewhere else,” Garrus ventured. Shepard thought he would sound happier proposing a suicidal charge against a fortified enemy position.

She shook her head and handed him a datapad and the Cerberus credit chip. “We still need to pick up some supplies for Sergeant Gardner. Would you take care of this, and the doctor and I will keep looking?  Oh, and be sure to pick up rations for yourself, too.  Gardner probably has no idea what you need.”

Garrus took the credit chit with evident relief. “I’ll take care of that, Commander.”

As Shepard and Chakwas worked their way down from floor to floor, the shops and their merchandise became a blur. She saw more fishes and model ships than she’d ever wanted to; they seemed particularly popular this season. _What would Liara do with a fish? I guess I could throw in a giant fish tank. What was Cerberus thinking, that I needed more lives to be responsible for_? Shepard’s gaze passed over hundreds of trinkets, holovids, clothing, games, novelties, delicacies… By the time they reached the fourth floor, she was brimming with frustration.

“Nothing is _right_ ,” she complained to the doctor, with an uncomfortable sense that she sounded like a whiny child.  _It’s been a long day, and I’m no more a shopper than Garrus_.

Dr. Chakwas’s look was patient but penetrating. “Exactly what kind of gift are you looking for, Shepard? Something that will tell Liara how much she means to you, how much you’ve missed her, how delighted you are to see her again?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Shepard said.

“You’re going to have to tell her those things yourself. Or give her a recording of you saying those things, but I doubt that’s what you have in mind.”

“I know that. But I want it to be _right_.” Shepard felt herself flushing. _I am being ridiculous, here._

Chakwas gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m certainly willing to cover the last few floors, Commander.”

They continued down to the third floor. Shepard was in the process of dismissing a display full of elcor jewelry when she saw Chakwas vigorously waving her arms from across the hall. She rushed to the older woman’s side and saw what had drawn her attention – an unlit sign labeled only “Antiquities.” She stepped into the shop. The proprietor, a stooped and wrinkled human who seemed an antiquity himself, briefly nodded at her. He turned back to contemplating a ledger lying open on the counter – no automated kiosks here.

The shop’s wares were strewn about in an apparently haphazard manner. Most of them appeared to be human artifacts from the twenty-first century. Shepard winced at the idea of presenting Liara with an “antiquity” that was younger than she was. Here and there she saw more “vintage” items from the twentieth century, but somehow she doubted that a Campbell’s Soup can or an I Like Ike pin would hold much interest for Liara. Besides, Liara would probably ask who Ike was and why liking him was worthy of note, and Shepard had no idea.

A weathered-looking wooden bookcase at the back of the store caught her eye. Shepard had never owned a book – they had been a low priority on the transport ships to Mindoir, and she had always thought them an inefficient way to store and transmit data. Several books looked both old and richly bound, in leather or some convincing substitute. An antique book of human tales or knowledge – that sounded more likely to appeal to Liara than a random trinket.

Shepard took one of the books from the shelf and carefully opened it to the title page, wrinkling her nose at the musty smell. It appeared to be a book of poems by someone named Robert Frost. She flipped to a random page and read a short poem about the world ending in fire or ice. A little too topical, she decided, and set the book back in its place. Besides, what did she know about poetry? She’d be giving Liara a message that she didn’t even properly understand.

Still, maybe one of the books would be poetry by Tennyson and at least she’d have a gift for Ashley. She sniffed at a few, picked one that seemed less odorous, and flipped it open. After a bewildered moment, her jaw dropped – this was _perfect_. She brought the book to the ancient shopkeeper, who watched her through cloudy eyes. “How much is this? And do you have anything I could use to write an inscription?”

He searched under the counter for a moment and produced, of all things, a fountain pen and a bottle of ink. No, _this_ was perfect. He made an expansive gesture that encompassed the book, pen, and ink. “Fifty credits for the lot.”

That was less than Shepard had expected. She reached for her credit chit and realized she’d given it to Garrus. She could raise him on the communicator... but still, that was a _Cerberus_ credit chit. She realized that she was deeply reluctant to provide them with any record of this transaction. This was only for Liara, and for her; not another piece of data for Miranda and her boss to pore over, looking for new ways to manipulate her.

Dr. Chakwas cleared her throat, and Shepard realized the doctor had come to stand behind her. She handed a credit chip to the proprietor. “I’ll take care of that, Shepard.”

“Dr. Chakwas... I can’t ask you to do that.”

The doctor gave her a startlingly impish smile. “Then it’s a good thing that you didn’t.”


	2. The Wrong Time

Two minutes on Illium, and Shepard was already starting to hate the place. Mostly, it was the feel of an insistent hand pushing down on her head and her body. Her knees complained with every step – so much for Miranda’s much-touted cybernetic enhancements. The Mantis on her back, which she was usually only distantly aware of, tugged insistently like an anchor she was trailing behind her. The parcel strapped to her left hip kept throwing off her balance. She almost wished she was back on Horizon, or Elysium, or Mindoir. Bad memories for low gravity – almost worthwhile.

She glanced over her shoulder at her companions. If Grunt and Garrus were finding the added weight burdensome, it wasn’t visible in their gait. Had Grunt ever experienced gravitational forces other than the Normandy’s Earth-normal? If he remembered the gravity of Korlus or had learned in the tank about Tuchanka’s, that would have prepared him for Illium. Garrus’s expression was typically stoic.

A welcoming party was approaching them - an asari flanked by two clanking LOKI mechs. Shepard gave the mechs and their ostentatiously displayed weapons a brief, dismissive glance, then looked over the asari. She seemed fairly young, probably one or two centuries, though Shepard didn’t have much faith in her ability to gauge asari ages. She wore a midriff-baring ensemble, patterns of white and deep blue contrasting with her skin. She, too, seemed untroubled by the heavy gravity. Shepard wondered if she was just accustomed to it, or if asari biotics could assuage the effects.

She paused and whispered to Garrus, “Why the mechs, do you think? Are they worried we’re planning to shoot the place up? And… if we were, do they think two LOKIs would even slow us down?”

“I imagine that it’s protocol,” Garrus replied, with an underlying rumble. She hoped it signified amusement rather than irritation. “Make sure no one sees Illium as a soft target. Not that anyone with any sense would think that.”

Shepard nodded to the approaching asari. She stopped walking and began to speak as the mechs took up positions behind her. “Welcome to Nos Astra, Commander Shepard. My name is Careena. If you need any information about the area, it will be my pleasure to assist you.”

“I assume it will also be your pleasure to collect the docking fees?” Shepard asked, a little tartly. Ground control had rattled off an extensive list before clearing the _Normandy_ to land.

Careena’s eyes widened, then she gave a small smile. “All docking and administration fees have already been paid on your behalf. I’m sorry that you were misinformed about the situation.”

Shepard blurted out, “Paid… by Liara? T’soni,” she added, already regretting the outburst. She hadn’t meant to step off the Normandy and play her hand all at once.

“Indeed.” Careena’s smile transformed to a knowing smirk. She waved at the mechs, which trundled off, back down the corridor. “She also asked that I direct you to speak with her. At your convenience, of course.”

“You’ve spoken with her?” Shepard asks. “No, of course, obviously you have.” _Stop talking, Shepard._ She took a moment to swallow the questions that were far too personal – has she changed? Does she talk about me? How did she come to be here? This smug asari had seen too much of her true self already. She picked a more neutral question, and kept her voice as flat as possible. “What does she do here?”

“She has become a respected information broker,” Careena answered. Was that a hint of envy? “Information is valuable currency on Nos Astra, and Liara has done quite well. I’m sure that she is looking forward to seeing you.” Damn, that smirk was getting irritating.

Shepard sensed Grunt and Garrus shifting behind her. Feeling awkward, or just restless? “Where can I find her?” she asked.

Careena brought up her omni-tool to give Shepard directions. Liara’s office proved to be within walking distance of the docks. After politely but firmly turning down Careena’s offer of additional help, Shepard led Garrus and Grunt into the spire. Her gaze was immediately drawn to a large window looking out over the city. Gleaming spires thrust into the sky, their bases invisible in the mist below. Streams of skycars seemed to flow between the towers. Looking away from the majestic sight, she took in the open, airy interior spaces, paneled in gleaming white and blue, and ringing with conversation and commerce.

Garrus caught Shepard’s eye and said quietly, “It looks different from Omega, doesn’t it? Clean instead of dirty, open instead of closed, secure instead of lawless. I’ve heard that Illium is one of the safest places in the galaxy – until you make one mistake. Alienate the wrong matriarch, sign the wrong contract, walk down the wrong alley, and it’s at least as dangerous as anywhere else.”

Shepard nodded. “Strange to find Liara here.” She trusted that Liara could handle herself; Shepard had seen enough of her in combat. But Liara had also given her the strong impression that she much preferred solitary research to navigating the politics of asari society. This bustling city seemed as unlike a Prothean dig site as possible. To flourish here, how much had Liara had to change from the asari she’d ordered to abandon the Normandy two years ago?

Shepard took a breath to calm herself. She was nervous, excited, possibly twitchy from too much combat – that was all. Two years were nothing to Liara, who was over a century old. She would still be the person Shepard knew, they would just need to catch up and to spend some time listening to each other. Despite their occasional awkwardness, they had always been good at communicating. Liara would listen, and she would understand.

Wouldn’t she? Shepard’s thoughts went back to Horizon, to a reunion gone disastrously wrong. “You’ve turned your back on everything we stood for,” Ashley had said, and, “I still know where my loyalties lie.” And Shepard, too exhausted from combat to find the right words, had let her walk away, feeling each step like a blow. And it wasn’t just Ashley, Tali had walked away as well. Could she bear it happening again?

She wouldn’t have to. Liara was _different_.

 “Shepard?” Grunt rumbled.

Shepard started out of her reverie. “Sorry. Just thinking…” Maybe she was becoming a little too much like Liara, getting lost in her own head. How many times had her instructors reminded her to _maintain situational awareness at all times_? They would doubtless be terribly disappointed to see her now. “Let’s go find an information broker.”

#

Liara couldn’t focus. She knew she should be reading reports, evaluating possible tips, sifting through the mountain of data she could access with a wave of her hand. She brushed through summaries of galactic affairs, geth activity, and high asari politics as if they were a cloud of buzzing insects. Only one set of reports could hold her attention right now.

_The Normandy SR-2 has been confirmed to be on approach to Illium._

_The Normandy has docked at the Nos Astra spacedocks._

_Shepard has disembarked and received your message._

_Shepard is on her way to you._

_You are strong_ , Liara told herself, _you can do this_. She felt, at best, hard but brittle, a blade that could cut but might break in its wielder’s hand. She brought up her collection of surveillance photos of Shepard, taken on Omega, the Citadel, and the ill-fated Purgatory prison. She stared at them, hoping they would somehow inoculate her against the impact of seeing Shepard face-to-face. She just needed to get this done as quickly as possible. It would be no mercy to prolong the inevitable pain. She just had to demonstrate to Shepard why they couldn’t be together any more, and then tell her one quick lie. Then it would be over, and each of them could continue their work.

She queued up the recording on the comm screen and looked over the datapad with the script one more time. This wasn’t even much of a deception, really. She’d certainly had many variants of this conversation in her time in Nos Astra. Some of the people she dealt with were responsive to negotiation, but others only responded to threats. It was just that she couldn’t count on someone needing to be threatened at exactly the right moment.

Facing the screen with her back to the door, she started talking as soon as the door opened. “Have you faced an asari commando unit before? Few humans have.” Now that she had an audience, quoting her mother seemed silly and unoriginal, but whatever else she might think about Benezia, she had definitely known how to deliver a good threat. Wait, what was the next line? She glanced down at the datapad. “I’ll make it simple. Either you give me what I need, or I use my biotics to flay you alive.”

She turned off the comm screen before the recording could run out and turned, ready to feign surprise when she saw who was standing there. Her preparation was unnecessary – even with advance warning, the sight of Shepard hit her like a biotic singularity. Painful-looking new scars traced their way across Shepard’s face, but it was the same face. She had the same red hair, the same brown eyes, and, at the moment, a very familiar mix of bewilderment and amusement.

“Shepard!” Liara gasped out. “Nyxeris, hold my calls.” Her assistant had been holding her calls since Shepard landed, but she correctly interpreted Liara’s words as a dismissal and slipped out of the room. Liara didn’t watch her go; her attention was entirely focused on Shepard. For Shepard’s part, she was staring at Liara as intently as Liara had ever seen her stare through a scope, seeming to note each detail of Liara’s face and comparing it against her memory. Liara felt like a ship caught in a gravity well, being pulled in.  She stepped forward, turned her head, and her lips were touching Shepard’s before she remembered why this couldn’t happen.

She jerked away. Shepard’s eyes widened in shock and hurt. Liara couldn’t meet them; she turned away, back to looking at the now-blank screen. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I ever quite believed my sources when they said you were alive… It’s very good to see you.” She realized she was babbling. So much for the script, so much for just one lie.

She heard Shepard’s voice, uncertain, questioning. “It’s very good to see you too, Liara. I can see that… a lot has changed for you. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well.” _I have a life here. I’ve moved on._ The words refused to come. “I’ve been working on Illium, as an information broker.” _It’s what I want to be doing_. Goddess, her new profession involved a healthy amount of lying, why couldn’t she do it now? “It’s… paid the bills, since you… these last two years.” She made herself turn toward Shepard and take a seat at the desk. “And now… you’re back. Going after the Collectors, with Cerberus.”

Shepard was searching her face more quizzically now, looking for the missing piece of a puzzle. “If you know that much, you know that I need help. I need people who will stand by me, who I can trust. I hope that you…”

“I can’t!” she blurted out.

“Why not?”

Liara had expected Shepard to be angry. She hadn’t been ready to hear the uncertainty and bewilderment in her voice. She’d only heard Shepard sound like that once before, when she was trying to come to terms with Udina and the Council’s decision to ground the Normandy instead of sending her after Saren.

“Liara, why not?” Shepard asked again.

_Because I don’t want to be with you._ The only lie she really needed to tell, and she couldn’t do it. She had thought she’d built up courage, steeled herself for this moment, and it was all falling to pieces in the face of reality. Of Shepard.

Shepard banged one fist on the desk. “Dammit, Liara, talk to me!”

At last Shepard’s anger jarred some words loose, even if they were the wrong ones. “I have… commitments here. Things I need to take care of. Debts I need to pay.” Not monetary ones, but there was a drell, in particular, to whom she owed a great deal.

“Things? Debts? Are you in trouble?”

In a sense, but if she said yes, she’d never stop Shepard from trying to help. It was, after all, what she did. “No, no trouble. But… it’s been a long two years. Things happened while you were gone, things that I need to deal with.”

“Liara, please tell me what’s going on. Why won’t you just talk to me?”

The lie still wouldn’t come out. She was weak, Shepard the fatal flaw in her armor. How could she think she was strong enough to take down the Shadow Broker if she couldn’t even let Shepard know it was over? All she could do was circle around it. “This is Illium, Shepard! Everything I say is probably being recorded. I have to speak carefully. Besides, this is my business. I know that you have your own.”

“I thought that we could help each other. I was under the impression that was what we do,” Shepard gritted out. Liara knew the words were meant to sting, and they did. But with that came a certain relief that Shepard understood that Liara was pushing her away.

Liara forced a smile to her face. “We can. I understand you’re looking for some persons of interest to you. I have information that should help you to locate them. And there’s some data that would be helpful to me…”

Transactions. Business. She could keep things on that level, where she now moved comfortably. Shepard would go on to find her own path.

#

Shepard left Liara’s office with blood pounding in her veins. _What the hell was that? What happened to my friend, my lover? Why won’t she just talk to me?_ Tears were starting in her eyes. She blinked them back; she hadn’t cried in public since she was seventeen, and she wasn’t going to start now.

Garrus met her gaze and said nothing, but she heard a low rumbling from his subvocals.  Grunt looked between the two of them in agitation.

“Shepard, do you need me to kill someone for you?” the krogan asked.

“No! Not right now, at least. Maybe later. Liara was able to give me a lead on that assassin, Krios. Let’s see if we can track him down.” The three of them made a good team. She wasn’t alone. No matter how she felt.

She realized that Liara’s gift was still strapped at her side. There had been no chance to give it to Liara. Anyway, it seemed clear that it wouldn’t mean much to her at this point. She’d find something else to do with it, after she scratched out the inscription. _Maybe Krios would like a book._


	3. Returning

Shepard’s voice came over the intercom. “Liara? Do you have a moment?”

“Of course, Shepard,” Liara answered, quickly marking her place in the latest Reaper troop strength estimates.

“I was hoping… that we could talk. About us.” Shepard sounded hesitant, uncertain, light-years from her usual self. “I know that I owe you an apology for last night. I didn’t mean… I got distracted and lost track of what I wanted to say. I’m sorry you had to listen to me going on about Thane. I promise that this time…”

Liara cut her off. “ _Shepard_.” Too sharp, too harsh, she thought; she aimed for a gentler tone. “You don’t owe me an apology. I understand why this is difficult for you, and I’m here for you.”

“I…” Shepard thought better of whatever she was going to say. “Thank you. Can we talk? Face to face?”

Liara brought up the list of remaining reports and performed some quick mental calculations. “Give me a few minutes to finish up what I’m working on right now? Then I can come up.”

“That sounds great. I’ll see you then, Liara.” Shepard cut the comm.

 _She sounded relieved. Did she really have any doubt in my answer_?

Liara turned back to the reports, skimming through them more quickly now, looking for anomalies or connections to highlight for Feron. She wasn’t finding much; she hoped this was because of the skill and thoroughness of Feron and the others, not because she was preoccupied. _Scholars agree that the Reaper War was lost because Liara T’soni was distracted at a critical moment_. She snorted at the thought. She wasn’t Shepard; her role was hardly that important. She sent her response, locked her workstation and ordered the drone, “Glyph, security mode.”

“Acknowledged, Dr. T’soni.”

She headed for the elevator, nodding absently at the _Normandy_ crew she passed. Now that she wasn’t focused on the reports, she found herself drumming the fingers of one hand against the other. Last night’s “conversation about us” had started and ended with Shepard’s visit to Thane in the hospital. Whatever Shepard had meant that to lead up to, it didn’t seem like a promising sign. She fretted as the elevator ascended to the captain’s cabin. Stepping out, she knocked tentatively on Shepard’s door, which slid open immediately.

Shepard gave Liara a cheery wave from where she was standing inside the cabin. “It’s good to see you. Come on in,” she called, just a little breathlessly.

Liara managed, “Good to see you, too,” as she stepped through the office area and sat down on one end of the couch. Shepard perched on the other end, looking like she might take flight. They were in the same positions as they’d started in last night, Liara thought, though they’d ended up with Shepard’s face buried in Liara’s shoulder as she insisted that she wasn’t crying.

“EDI, privacy please,” Shepard commanded.

“As you wish, Commander,” EDI’s voice came from the wall.

Shepard turned to Liara. “I really am sorry about last night,” she said. “I only brought up Thane because I did talk with him about you and me.”

Liara’s stomach tightened. She thought she knew where this was going, and she couldn’t keep waiting to get there. “Shepard, if you don’t want to do this, if your memories of Thane are too raw, if you need to focus on being there for him… I understand. I’ll be all right.” It was a lie, but one she could manage to tell.

Shepard shook her head vigorously, prompting a sigh of relief from Liara. “No! No, that’s not it at all.” But I wanted to come clean with him about you and me, since our relationships, um, overlapped a little.” Her eyes were resolutely fixed on the floor. “He said… that he realizes what you and I mean to each other. That the future is uncertain for everyone, and that he would rest better knowing that the two of us are facing that future together.”

She glanced up at Liara, her eyes suspiciously moist. Liara reached out for her hand, and Shepard gave it a squeeze.

“Is this something you still want, Liara? I know that I’m not very good at this, talking about emotions, being in a relationship. I know that I can be difficult.”

Liara felt a foolish grin coming on. Shepard was afraid _she_ didn’t want this? “Of course I want to be with you. Of course.”

Shepard pulled her hand back and still wouldn’t meet Liara’s eyes. “There’s one thing… I just need to ask you about. I’ve tried to just let it go and let bygones lie in the past, but it’s just going to keep bothering me if I don’t ask.”

Liara felt the grin fall away. “What is it?”

 “Illium, the first time we met there. What the hell happened?” The words came out of Shepard all in a rush.

The lights in Shepard’s cabin suddenly seemed very bright. Liara averted her eyes, fighting the urge to bury her face in a couch cushion. “I… well, you know part of it. I was afraid of your reaction when you found out that I gave you to Cerberus.”

“Part of it?” Shepard inquired, eyebrows narrowed.

Liara took a deep breath. She would not be the coward she’d been on Illium. She would tell Shepard the truth. “I was sure that when you found out how I’d changed, you wouldn’t want me. You’d known a Liara who was warm and soft, and in those two years, after everything I’d had to do, I’d grown cold and hard. I knew that you’d figure that out, because I couldn’t keep up a pretense of being someone I wasn’t, and then…” She swallowed. “It would be over. So it seemed best to push you away as soon as I saw you again. I thought that would spare us later heartache.”

“But then, you were standing there in my office, and your eyes were full of pain and loss and need. It was _you_ , still just as beautiful even with those gashes in your face, and I just couldn’t say what I’d planned. The right words wouldn’t come, and I… think I may have panicked a little?” Out of breath, out of words, she lowered her head, gazing at Shepard’s knees. Shepard stayed quiet, and her knees gave no clues to what she was feeling. She took another breath. “I know I didn’t handle it very well. All those Sexuality and Relationships classes…” She remembered how surprised Shepard was when she first learned about _that_ aspect of asari learning. “They hadn’t quite prepared me for that situation, somehow.”

Shepard reached out and took Liara’s hand again. She asked gently, “Did you really think that I fell for you because you were warm and soft?”

Liara felt her face blushing purple. She kept her eyes on Shepard’s knees. “I suppose I did. You were so kind and tender toward me. It was such a contrast to the way you were in battle. I thought you were drawn to the same traits in me.”

“Oh, Liara,” Shepard said with a fond sigh. “You weren’t as soft as you thought when I first met you, and you weren’t as hard as you thought when we met on Illium.”

That rankled. “I don’t think we’ve melded enough times for you to act like you know me better than I know myself,” Liara said stiffly.

Shepard held up her free hand in a gesture Liara recognized as a human sign for peace. “That’s not what I mean. You’ve always shown the world the face you needed it to see. You’ve told me how cutthroat asari society and academia could be, and you opted out by appearing as innocuous and unthreatening as possible. But I knew you were strong once I saw you fight on Noveria. I’ve served with plenty of trained soldiers without your discipline and precision. Hell, you helped me take down your own mother, and I can’t quite conceive of the strength that took.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Liara put in softly.

“I know it wasn’t.” Shepard squeezed her hand again. “But you did it. Then on Illium, everything was different. To survive, to move forward with your goals, you had to show your strength, even exaggerate it. The same strength you always had, but expressed instead of hidden. Your whole personality didn’t change in two years, Liara. Your circumstances did.”

“I did things I’m not proud of.”

“Because you had to, and because you had the strength. And _that’s_ why I fell for you, because you were so strong. And so brilliant, so clever, and so kind, and none of those things have changed.”

Liara risked a look at Shepard’s face. Her eyes almost glowed with passion and intensity, and Liara knew she would follow her anywhere. She wanted to be the person Shepard described, even if she didn’t quite believe that she was.

Shepard sighed again, her eyes momentarily far away. “But you pushed me away, I couldn’t find the words, and I stumbled into the arms of a drell who deserved much better than I could give him. You know, I made mistakes, too. I approached you like you’d been standing in place for those two years. I wasn’t ready to listen to you, just came charging in, thinking that a gift would… Oh, Goddess!”

It was so incongruous that Liara laughed. “I really don’t think you need to convert on my account, Shepard.”

Shepard gave her a broad smile as she dropped Liara’s hand and opened her closet. “I remember now! I didn’t want to think about it, so I hid it in here, and then I sort of forgot about it. I hope the Alliance teams didn’t take it…” She was rustling through the closet as she spoke, carelessly knocking uniforms and dresses to the ground. She gave an abrupt whoop of victory, familiar to Liara from the battlefield, and pulled a wrapped rectangular package out of a garment bag. She presented it to Liara with a flourish. “My gift to you, a number of months delayed.”

Liara took the parcel and tried to guess what the plain wrapping contained. The size brought to mind a viewscreen or tablet, but it seemed too thick. Two or three tablets?

“Well, are you going to open it?” Shepard asked. She was practically rubbing her hands together, her sober mien from earlier transmuted to an almost giddy eagerness.

Liara pulled the wrappings away from one side of the package and ran her hand across a soft surface with a rich brown texture. It felt like some sort of cured animal hide, or a high-quality synthetic. She swept the rest of the wrappings aside, seeing stitching along the side and then realizing that the animal hide covers on top and bottom contained a number of thin sheets. She glanced up at Shepard’s eager face.

“It’s a book?” It was half a question, half an exclamation. Shepard nodded vigorously.

It was certainly very finely made, but presumably the contents were the real point of the gift. Liara flipped it open and stared at the pages for a moment in puzzlement. She flipped to another page, which did nothing to dispel her confusion.

“Shepard, are the pages supposed to be blank?”

Shepard grinned again. “Read the inscription in the front.”

Liara turned to the front of the book to find the inside cover full of black, slightly smeared letters. She reflexively reached for the translation program on her omni-tool before she realized that the lettering was _asari_ – readable, if a little clumsy – and in her native dialect, no less. How had Shepard managed?

She read the inscription out loud, letting Shepard’s translator convert the words back to her own tongue. “’Dear Liara, I never thought that I would meet anyone like you. Our time together meant more to me than I can say. I could listen for hours to you telling other people’s stories, be they long-dead Protheans or our traveling companions. But the stories I most long to hear are your own. This book is for your story – a tale that is yours alone, though I hope that I continue to feature in it.’”

“’You are in possession of my heart…’” _Oh dear!_ Liara stopped reading abruptly and burst into laughter.

“That’s… not exactly the reaction I was looking for,” Shepard said.

Liara gasped for air. “The translation’s a bit too literal. These particular words aren’t used to express a metaphor, so the phrase reads to an asari as, ah, ‘You are currently holding the blood-circulating organ from my chest.’”

“Not exactly romantic,” Shepard said ruefully. “I was trying for ‘keeper of my heart.’ I knew I should have shelled out for a better translation program.”

“Don’t worry, I’m so touched that you made the effort to write in my language at all,” Liara protested. “Let’s see… ‘You are the keeper of my heart, and I yearn for our reunion. My love to you, Elaine Shepard.’”

She paused a moment for thought. “Shepard, I don’t even know what to say. I don’t have much experience receiving gifts. Certainly, I’ve never been given one with this much meaning. I love it.” She ran a finger across one of the pages and gave a puzzled frown. “How do I write in it, though? The pages don’t seem to react to my touch.”

“Oh, thank you for the reminder!” Shepard delved back into the garment bag and pulled out another, smaller parcel. “This is a traditional human means of writing.” She handed it to Liara. “I can give you a bit of a tutorial, if you’d like. It took some practice before I was ready to use it for the inscription, and you can see that I still wasn’t perfect.” She gestured at the smeary bits, rocking from foot to foot, seeming full of nervous energy.

“Shepard.” Liara caught Shepard’s eyes with her own and smiled. “In case you didn’t hear, I love it. Both the gift itself, and the sentiment behind it.” Her tone grew more somber. “I’m sorry that I didn’t give you the opportunity to give it to me on Illium.”

“Well, I’m sorry that I promptly stuffed it in a garment bag and forgot about it. I could have given it to you half a dozen times after that first meeting. Hell, I could have mailed it to you.”

Liara set the book down and stood to face Shepard. “Can we move past it, Shepard? The ways we’ve hurt each other, the words not said, the words not heard? Because…” Shepard’s gaze suddenly seemed very intense, like two miniature suns burning. “I’m ready to.”

Shepard said softly, “There’s nothing I want more.”

Liara stood up as Shepard reached for her, and they wrapped their arms around each other, stumbling for a moment and then catching their balance. For minutes, they just held each other close. Then Liara remembered the inscription, and couldn’t resist.

“I hope you’re not planning to take possession of the blood-circulating organ in my chest now,” she said in mock wariness, then burst out laughing again.

“Shush,” said Shepard, and quieted her with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to servantofclio for beta reading!


End file.
